


A Moment of Jealousy

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hints of past Adam/Shiro and unrequited Acxa/Keith, M/M, angsty angst, just a soft story where these boys finally accept what they mean to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: Keith has experienced his fair share of jealousy, over long-ago lovers and ghosts of times gone by.But Shiro? Shiro gets to learn of what it feels like to break his own heart time and time again.





	A Moment of Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda angsty at first, because I think these two would need a good push to make them finally admit their feelings. This was written as a request for uchihasavior!

Keith knows that he has absolutely no right to feel jealous, to feel envious, over Adam, but he can’t _help_ it. Adam has no idea how important the face he holds in his hands really is, and it’s almost physically painful for Keith to watch the way Shiro smiles, just barely a whisper against his beautiful mouth that makes Keith’s knees go weak.

It isn’t that Shiro doesn’t deserve this, because Shiro deserves the _world_. He deserves every smile, every caress, every kiss.

That isn’t what this is at all, and yet…

It takes almost an insurmountable amount of energy not to make a sound when Adam moves forward, pressing his lips against Shiro’s. It’s petal-soft like a flower floating on the breeze, and at that exact moment Keith knows that this is far more than just a silly crush. He wants more than anything for Shiro to look at him with that same expression.

That soft, sweet smile—

He knows that he would kill for that smile, and even if Shiro doesn’t know, Adam _does_.

Of course Adam knows, because Keith may be a lot of things, but he isn’t always the best at hiding his feelings. He knows that his love and adoration for Shiro is written across his face, an open canvas just waiting for its artist to pick up a paintbrush.

Usually, Adam doesn’t seem so… territorial? But as of late, especially since the announcement of the Kerberos mission, Adam’s been giving him this _look_. It’s a look that could curdle milk, and Keith can’t do anything else except look away in shame.

Before? This look would’ve never even made Keith blink twice. But now?

Now, as Adam kisses Shiro’s lips, Keith can see it on the older man’s face. It’s drawn into the lines around his mouth, the way that he stares right past Shiro and straight through Keith.

Shouldn’t his attention be on Shiro? It isn’t like Adam is kissing _him_ —

“I’ll see you after class, Takashi,” Adam says as he picks up his bag from where he laid it on the couch, and though he says nothing to Keith, Keith still manages to give a half-wave back. He isn’t going to be rude, even if he wants to be. The last thing Keith needs is for Adam to say even a word to Shiro—not even a whisper. Not even a damn _suggestion_.

If anything, the wave makes the lines on Adam’s mouth twist down a little deeper, though Shiro does give a small smile to Keith. He’s trying to be friendly. That’s all that matters to Shiro.

But Adam? His eyes get thinner, his mouth more pronounced.

Good. He deserves to have as many wrinkles as he can get.

What kind of crazy man gets to kiss the most famous pilot in the world and instead spends it staring at Keith? It’s someone who apparently doesn’t have his priorities in order, that much Keith knows for sure.

_Don’t think about it, don’t think about it._

Easier said than done.

Shiro has this ridiculous, dopey smile across his face. Keith wishes that he could do something to wipe it off, but there isn’t much that he could do. In fact, Keith’s brain tries to run through all of the possible options, but none of them are good enough.

He could, of course, kiss Shiro himself. But that would only cause more drama, more unnecessary problems that he just can’t deal with at this moment.

Still, though, the idea sends a thrill right through Keith’s stomach, straight up into his chest. What would it really be like to be able to kiss Shiro? Could Keith even give us much passion as Shiro deserved into one little kiss? Would Shiro even _let_ him try?

Or, would it be exactly like the kiss Adam gave just moments before, a kiss of possessiveness and dislike, rather than one meant to show all of the feelings hidden underneath the surface?

This is what happens when someone falls in love with a man who’s in love with someone else. This is what happens when someone falls in love with a man whose boyfriend can see straight through the competition—

Who is Keith kidding? There’s no _competition_.

Keith is seventeen and gangly, arms and legs too long and yet too short at the same time. He’s awkward, nose pimpled while he sports a hairstyle that went out of fashion over a hundred years before. He’s got a temper like a fucking volcano and a hole in his heart where real love should be.

He’s broken in ways that no one and nothing can fix.

He’s nothing compared to Adam.

Adam is… Adam is handsome, Adam is older, Adam knows Shiro like no other person in the entire world does. They’ve been dating since before Keith was ever part of Shiro’s life, and Keith knows that Adam will always be part of Shiro. Even if they stopped dating, there’s so much _history_ there. It would be impossible to unravel, and Adam…

If Adam ever even had the inclination of asking Shiro to choose, Keith knows that he would be gone without even a second thought. If Adam ever really felt worried, felt threatened, Keith would be _gone_.

Keith really can’t blame Shiro for that, because if he were in Adam’s position, Keith would’ve already been thrown out the door.

After all, who wouldn’t be jealous of Adam? Who wouldn’t want Shiro as their one and only?

Still, the way that Adam looks at him as though he’s a threat leaves a little part of Keith broken in ways that can’t quite be fixed. It hurts not because it’s true, but because deep inside, Keith knows he _isn’t_.

Shiro couldn’t ever love someone like him.

Who would?

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Keith manages a smile, just barely. It feels fake, like the very skin around his mouth is trying to fight back against his muscles. It doesn’t want to lie to Shiro; no part of Keith wants to ever do that.

But, Keith also knows that if Shiro even thought there was a modicum of impropriety in their relationship, that it would end right then and there.

Shiro the hero. Shiro the perfect hero.

No, it’s better not to say anything at all. It’s better to hold in all of these feelings because holding them in is so much better than having even the slightest of chances of losing Shiro.

Nothing is worth losing Shiro. _Nothing_.

“Nothing’s wrong, old-timer,” Keith manages to say. He’s almost proud that his voice doesn’t shake. “Just —”

Keith it doesn’t say anything else, instead making a slight gesture to the door that Adam just left from. “Nevermind.”

Shiro’s face softens. “Hey, Keith. It’s okay. I’m sure you’ll find somebody for you one day. You just gotta take some chances, get to know people. I’m sure that someone is waiting just for you.”

But there isn’t anyone else on Earth or the solar system or even the galaxy, maybe even the _universe_ , that Keith would rather have kiss him. He wants Shiro, and only Shiro, to be that person.

He wants to take all of the chances the world because all of them would always lead straight back to Shiro.

“Yeah, maybe.”

He just—can’t.

* * *

Shiro knows that he has absolutely no right to feel jealous, to feel envious, over Acxa, but he can’t help it. Acxa is just a woman, a fighter who helped them not even a handful of times. Shiro knows that Acxa was Lotor’s finest and most loyal general, that she had given all of that away to help the paladins.

Shiro also knows just what kind of man Keith is, how unwilling he would be to leave a comrade behind. He is willing to stick out his neck for anyone, and that includes the half-Galra general.

But still, the way she looks at him…

It churns like spoiled butter in his belly, and her soft words nearly make Shiro sick. They had spoken only once before this moment, from when Keith had saved her when she was stuck in the belly of the Weblum. Who is she to think that she can speak to Keith in such a way? It’s almost like she’s batting her eyes at him, and from the way Keith’s mouth gives that ever so slight smile, just barely an upturn of lips, Shiro can do nothing but look away.

He’s just like Shiro in that regard, and for the first time in a long time, Shiro wishes that they both were _different_.

It isn’t that he wants Acxa dead, but instead that he wishes that she would just stop looking at Keith like _that_. That mixture between a loyal puppy dog and a ferocious warrior— it doesn’t suit her.

Shiro doesn’t want to see the way she smiles at him, the way her face lights up at the mere mention of Keith’s name. Shiro wants her to be the bad guy, because if she’s the bad guy then it takes at least a little bit of the aching sting away.

Is this how Keith felt when he had to watch Shiro and Adam? Is this the same feeling that Keith had to go through all of those years ago when it had been the opposite side of the coin? Would Shiro find himself staring down at Acxa one day, wishing to fill in her shoes?

  
That’s what Adam had said, the last time they’d spoken. It had just been an amalgamation of fights rolled into one, and while Kerberos had been the focal point, so had _Keith_.

Shiro hadn’t believed it then, because Keith was, in his eyes, still the fifteen-year-old kid that stole his car. But when Shiro thought of the time passing in the Gladiator pits, when he should have been remembering what Adam’s face looked like in the sweet darkness of the night, what really kept Shiro sane was Keith—

He wasn’t going to get to see Keith become the man he knew Keith could be. He wouldn’t be able to watch Keith fall in love, to have his heart broken, to be the person who Keith needed him to be in the darkest of moments.

It’s that thought that kept Shiro sane then, and yet now that he can _see_ it, he doesn’t _want_ to.

Shiro looks at Acxa and how soft her face seems to be as she glances over Keith, and he can’t help but feel his chest tighten.

Oh, what irony. What would Adam even say if he could see this? Would he laugh?

No. That isn’t like Adam at all, but Shiro feels like he deserves it.

It’s almost fair, that much Shiro knows. After everything he put Adam through, it would only be fair for Shiro to understand even a sliver of what Adam must have felt when Shiro left, when he chose the mission over Adam.

Keith though, after everything that happened on that abandoned planet…

Maybe it’s best that Keith never knows the feelings that have been building up inside of him since crash landing back on Earth those long, long months ago. At least then, at least then they could be —

Happy?

Is it even possible for Shiro to feel happy? Because right at this moment, in the darkness of the cave on another long forgotten planet, Shiro can almost feel his own heart break as Keith smiles back.

It’s after that when Shiro changes from the black lion into the green lion, because the very last thing Shiro can handle right now is the thought of hearing Keith whisper Acxa’s name in his dreams. Shiro just…

He can’t do it.

He just—can’t.

* * *

 

“Adam… I’m so sorry.”

But there are no words that can truly reach the depths of Shiro’s sorrow, and even thinking Adam’s name hurts somewhere deep inside his chest, an unfathomable and empty expanse of memories and tragedy and lost goodbyes. This isn’t how it was supposed to go, this isn’t ever how Shiro planned any of this.

Adam… out of everything that could have happened, Shiro knows that the one thing he never expected to happen is _this_. He wasn’t supposed to live longer than Adam, he wasn’t supposed to bury his first love. He always expected to be the first to go; they both came to terms with it long before love even entered the equation.

But Shiro _didn’t_ bury Adam, and that knowledge hurts almost as much is the fact that he’s gone. Shiro continued to live— no, _continues_  to live, and Adam is gone. There isn’t even a body left, just the pieces of his plane, the shreds that managed to fall back to Earth, and his blood-stained stripes.

Useless, discarded, forgotten.

Adam will never wake with a half-garbled request for coffee, like he always did back at the Garrison. He isn’t going to roll his shoulders back and cuddle close to Shiro during those few precious moments of freedom. He isn’t going to whisper sweet nothings against his lover’s neck, waiting for the sun to rise just enough to make it a little bit less annoying and a little more endearing.

Adam isn’t going to get to have his next love, his next future, his next adventure.

No, Adam doesn’t get any of that at all. And Shiro— Shiro can’t help but feel like all of this is his fault. If he had stayed, if he had never left, then maybe—

Adam would still be dead, and so would Shiro. It isn’t hard to understand that fact, but something is weighing in the back of his mind, and even if he knows this is true it doesn’t _matter_. Even if anything is true, the fact remains that Adam is _gone_ , and that simple, cold reality is hard to see past.

It’s guilt that keeps Shiro up that night, curls inside of him and refuses to let go. It’s as though his own mind fights against him, and dreams of the Coliseum fade into the background, and now in the foreground is Adam, but Adam isn’t the same as he was once before.

No— here, in the darkness of Shiro’s mind, Adam is more than just Adam.

Adam holds the sword in the Coliseum, Adam is the one who loses his grip, Adam dies over and over and over again, and it’s always Shiro swinging his sword.

And then Adam morphs into Keith, and he wakes, _screaming_.

When the next night comes, and it is the same, and Shiro fails Adam, and Shiro fails Keith, and—

Keith _smiles_ , a soft and accepting smile. His eyes close, so gently that his eyelashes brush against his cheeks like butterfly kisses, and—

Over and over and over again, Shiro fails himself.

Shiro deserves this. He deserves nothing but pain, because all of this is his fault and—

He wakes again in a cold sweat, and knows that this is just the beginning of his torment.

He can’t do this again.

He says nothing.

* * *

 

When Keith wakes, it’s to a room with his mother and Kolivan, and he can’t help but feel the knife dig deep into his gut when he realizes that Shiro isn’t there, that there’s an empty space waiting just near his bed where a certain captain should be, but _isn’t_.

And it hurts, hurts in a way that Keith doesn’t even know the words for, because he’s pretty sure that there aren’t words to describe the feeling. It’s more than pain, more than agony. Yet after all of the pain Keith has felt in his life, this is clearly the worst.

It’s hard to breathe, hard to think, and no matter how much Keith wishes for Shiro to come through the door, he _doesn’t_.

“There’s a ceremony,” Krolia explains, but not even her kind words are enough to soothe the pain and hurt building inside of Keith’s body. It’s good to see his mother, and Keith would never ever even think to tell her to leave, but right now?

Right now all he wants is a man who doesn’t want him.

Keith can’t help but feel the sorrow build up inside of him as he turns on the television, eyes bleary and colors morphing into blobs of reds and blues and oranges. He can see a shock of white, pale gray eyes that stare straight into him, but it’s better not to look. And though Keith can’t see Adam’s picture, he can’t help but feel it around his neck like an albatross.

“Did he—”

Krolia pauses. “He brought you here.” Something crosses her face, and though Keith knows his mother well, he doesn’t know _that_ face. He doesn’t think he wants to. “You—you gave us a scare, Keith. It was…. It was hard on him.”

_And even then he doesn’t want you._

He waits for Shiro, waits because he doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know what else to say. The seconds become minutes, minutes become hours, and Keith isn’t even sure how long he’s been fading in and out of sleep. All he knows is that Shiro still isn’t here.

Krolia...Krolia stays. She stays because Keith knows that without her he has nothing, and in that anger he wants her to leave. He doesn’t deserve anything.

He’s unloveable—isn’t that what Shiro’s clone told him? That he didn’t deserve anyone?

At the time, it hadn’t hurt because Keith understood that it wasn’t true, that there _were_ people who loved him. But now, given the silence of his hospital room and the quiet and empty way Krolia just _stares_ at him, Keith wonders if the clone really knew the truth.

When Shiro finally does come, the aching and burning in Keith’s chest makes it impossible to respond, and instead Keith pretends to be asleep and closes his eyes, hoping that the pitter patter of his heart isn’t loud enough for Shiro to hear.

Shiro sits with him for hours, doesn’t even dare leave until the nurses have grown weary of him and tell him that he has no other choice but to go somewhere else, as long as it isn’t here.

Keith wonders if Shiro knows he’s awake, because just the brush of his fingers against his forehead is almost enough to make him cry. He tries to hold it in, but he just…

He can’t—

“Keith?”

Shiro doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, that Keith is broken in ways that can’t be fixed, can’t be molded back into the right shape, and it’s better to not drag Shiro into this. He’s done it enough, gone chasing after a man who would never love them in the first place, and Keith knows that he can’t do it again. He just —

He can’t do it again.

He says nothing.

* * *

 

Keith can feel Acxa watching from a distance, and he doesn’t have it in him to ask her why. There’s a softness to her face, something that Keith knows from experience, and right now he just doesn’t have the energy to tell her to go away. He knows that the best thing to do for both of them would be to tell her to leave, that he’s hung up on a man who deserves the moon and the stars and all of the constellations in the sky and he can’t give that to her.

Maybe Acxa can understand this feeling that’s been eating him up inside. After everything that happened with Lotor, there’s a chance that their pain would be somewhat of kinship. But that isn’t something Keith wants to dwell on. Not right now, anyway.

Had it hurt Acxa to hear the love and devotion that Lotor shared for Allura across the intercom just before being lost to his own darkness? Had she always known that he never loved her like she loved him?

Is the burning pain that Keith felt towards Adam all those years ago the same pain Acxa feels toward Allura? Or has it begun to fade away?

He takes slow steps toward Acxa, treating her more like a feral cat than he cares to admit. He remembers the way Shiro treated him back when Keith stole his car, and though he’s no Shiro, Keith can try to be like him…

Even thinking that hurts, and Keith can’t do anything but frown when Acxa walks forward to meet him in the middle of the graveyard. Keith can feel his mother’s eyes on the back of his head, but he deftly ignores it.

“Glad to see you made it here in one piece,” is all that Keith says.

Acxa smiles, though her teeth are far too sharp and so distinctly inhuman that it makes him look away. It just doesn’t feel right. “Got a ride from Holt and his crew. Your friend Shiro informed me you’d be here.”

“Shiro?”

Acxa looks to Krolia, who is still kneeling at his father’s grave, but then her attention turns back to Keith. “Captain Shirogane informed me that you would be here with General Krolia.” She pauses. “I guess… he wanted me to find you.” The way she says _you_ is what gets to him.

“But… why?”

He doesn’t mean for his words to be harsh, but he can still see her frown.

“I wouldn’t know.” Acxa pauses. “He said that we… we have a lot in common.”

“We have a lot in common,” Keith manages to repeat as he looks down at the dry, breaking grass. It’s been years since it was last watered, and Keith wonders idly if anyone had come to see his father’s grave since he left Earth. Had anyone missed his father?

Had anyone missed _him_?

“I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know where else to go. I know nothing of your home planet, and—”

She’s lonely. Keith can see that right from the get-go, and he can only give her a half-nod. “It’s fine.” He just wants her to stop feeling like she needs to explain herself. Keith’s getting used to picking up strays, so it makes sense.

Still—he’s not blind. He can see it on her face, that feeble hope, and he doesn’t have the energy to crush it.

Hopefulness. So much hopefulness.

It stings because after all of this time Shiro’s still absolutely blind and doesn’t understand. After Keith screamed his love out, after everything that Keith had fought for, Shiro _still_ doesn’t understand. Maybe Keith deserves that, because what kind of man falls in love with his best friend?

And a little part of Keith knows that maybe Shiro’ll never really understand, and Keith is going to die of loneliness because Shiro will never see him as anything other than the too-skinny and scrawny kid he once was, rather than the man he had already become.

Instead, Shiro will send Acxa his way, hoping to fill that void they both know is so clearly Shiro-shaped, and all he can really do is give her a half-smile. What else can he do?

It isn’t Acxa’s fault.

Is it Shiro’s fault? Or, maybe… maybe it’s Keith’s.

Yeah, it’s definitely his fault. Still...

He tries to not think too much.

It doesn’t help.

* * *

 

Shiro finds himself sitting in the small, secluded part of the memorial, and all he can do is think of what he would say to Adam if he were here.

He knows that he doesn’t regret leaving Earth for the Kerberos mission, knows that if he hadn’t left, then someone else _would_ have, and there’s a chance things would have been so much worse. Maybe Matt would have died in the Arena, maybe his replacement wouldn’t have been strong enough to escape, maybe he wouldn’t have made his way back to Earth, maybe Keith wouldn’t have found him.

No Blue Lion. No Arus. No waking Allura or Coran.

All that Shiro and the other Paladins fought so hard for… it wouldn’t exist.

And Shiro would still be in a dying body, and Adam—Adam would have fought in the battle to keep Shiro safe, and then they both would be dead.

Shiro knows that he’s got a dark streak, that his time with the Galra has permanently changed him, but Shiro wants to live. He fought so hard, was willing— _is_ willing—to do anything to keep himself and those he loves safe, and yet…

There’s still guilt, hot and thick like molten iron, and it sits on Shiro like armor. It’s thick armor that bears down on him, making his limbs too heavy to move. The weight of the world rests on his shoulders, and Shiro isn’t sure how long he can hold it up. He’s given so much, tortured himself so much, and he just isn’t sure how much he has left to give.

Whatever the amount is, Shiro knows he’d gladly give it just to keep Keith and the others safe.

But he wants to live. He wants to be normal. He wants to be _free_.

“Hey.”

Shiro looks up through bleary eyes, and for a moment he thinks he’s hallucinating, but after blinking two or three times he can still see Keith standing next to him, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes never daring to leave Adam’s memorial.

“Hi.” It feels more awkward than it sounds, and for that Shiro’s happy. The last thing he wants is for Keith to hear just how exhausted Shiro feels in his voice. He knows that Keith would pick up on it immediately, and that guilt—

He doesn’t need that on his plate now, too.

“Did you tell Acxa where I was?” It isn’t accusatory, but there’s definitely something there, just under the surface. Shiro can’t quite tell what it is, not until Keith interrupts him by holding out his hand. “Don’t, Shiro. Just… _don’t_.”

“Don’t what?” Shiro asks, and though he wants to look away from Keith, he finds it almost impossible to look away from his friend, his compatriot, his—

 _I’m not his lover,_ a part of Shiro whispers, like a fatalistic reminder of something he doesn’t want to be repeated in his mind. It’s hard to even think he can possibly forget, but he _tries_. He tries because there's nothing else he can do, because Shiro knows what happens to those around him.

Keith deserves better, no matter how much Shir loves him. Maybe that is precisely _why_ Shiro sent Acxa to him.

“Don’t hide away here,” Keith adds after a moment of silence, and Shiro wonders whether or not Keith would be saying that if their positions switched. “Adam’s…. He’s gone. But he wouldn’t want you to mourn for the rest of your life. He would want you to be happy—”

“How do you know that?” Shiro asks, voice quivering. “How can you be so sure?”

Keith pauses, just long enough for him to lick his lips, before responding. “He wouldn’t want you to feel this way, because I don’t want you to feel this way. I…. I would give anything for you to be happy, and I know Adam would feel the same way.”

“B—”

Keith steps forward and his hand shakes as he reaches up to press his hand to his forehead. Shiro wonders what that hand would feel like on his own cheek. “Shiro. Adam loved you.”

Shiro knows that. He does, he really does, but—

“And I love you, too.”

All of the air leaves Shiro’s lungs at that, and for a brief second Shiro wonders if time’s stopped and if it would reverse course.

“I—”

Shiro can’t help but look up at Keith, at the scar across his cheek and his trembling hand.

“I know you don’t feel the same. I know that,” Keith insists, though his voice breaks and Shiro can feel his own heart do the same. “All I want to do is, I dunno. Give you a hug? Try to comfort you? But you keep trying to push me away and I just don’t _get_ it.”

Keith’s nostrils flare, just for a moment, before he reaches out to press his fingers against Adam’s name. “I never got how you two broke up. You always seemed so happy when I was around.”

Shiro takes in a small breath. “We were. For a while.”

“I get it, now.”

Shiro makes eye contact with Keith for a second, but he looks away. The raw intensity in Keith’s eyes almost _burns_.

“Get what?”

“Why you pushed him away. Why you’re trying to push me away.”

Shiro can’t say anything, because Keith doesn’t let him. He can feel Keith’s hand on his head, running through his white hair. He wants to lean into it, but he doesn’t. God, he _wants_ it, but he _doesn’t_.

“It’s okay, Shiro. I…” Keith’s hand runs lower down, and it’s just a swipe against Shiro’s lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“I’m not…”

Lying. Shiro knows he’s lying. He knows exactly what words want to come spewing out of his mouth, filthy with lies and deceit. That’s exactly what he was doing when he sent Acxa out to find Keith. It’s exactly what he did when Kerberos was announced.

Exactly. Exactly. Exactly.

It’s in him, just like the disease that ruined his muscles. It’s just like the illness that ran its way through his veins. That’s gone now, yes, but the feeling of fear and pain still runs its way through Shiro’s mind, thick like molasses.

“I told you—I’m not going anywhere. I love you. Maybe…” Keith pulls his hand away, tucking it away in his other hand. He raises it to his chest and holds it there. “Maybe one day you’ll let me love you.”

“You shouldn’t love me. It would be better… It would be better if you loved—”

“Who? Acxa?” Keith snorts. “You can’t tell me who I should and shouldn’t love, Shiro. You saved me. You have always saved me. And I’m not giving up on you.”

Keith leaves and all Shiro can do is stare back at the metal of his dead lover’s name. He can feel the anger and the pain building up in his chest, and he has to leave. Shiro doesn’t know if there is anything after this life, but if there is…

It isn’t Adam’s fault.

Is it Keith’s fault? Or, maybe… maybe it’s Shiro’s.

Yeah, it’s definitely his fault. Still...

He tries to not think too much.

It doesn’t help.

* * *

 

Keith’s hand brushing against Acxa’s during their weekly meeting is the last straw. Shiro stands, almost as if something were grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him up, and he can feel every hair on his body standing at attention. Every single person’s eyes are on him, staring straight through him.

“Wh—”

The words rise up in Shiro’s mouth unbidden, and there isn’t even time for him to push them back down, to hide and pretend as though everything is alright when he knows it isn’t.

“Captain Shirogane?” Veronica asks as she pushes her glasses up her nose. There’s a hint of frustration in her brow, and Shiro almost wants to apologize for interrupting her. “Did I say something?”

What she really means is that Shiro needs to sit his ass back down in his chair so that she can continue explaining about the current food rations rate and their need for increasing grain production within the next six months to continue feeding the Garrison and all its new recruits. However, there really isn’t time for that when Shiro’s been running everything through his head for the last several days.

It isn’t that things are clicking into place, because that would be just too easy. It’s more that Keith has put his hands inside his brain and has started forcefully rearranging the furniture, throwing things around and about until Shiro finally pays attention.

He ignored it at first, but now….

It’s getting to be just too much for him not to say anything. Especially when he can still see the back of Keith’s knuckles against Acxa—whether or not it was an accident, Shiro isn’t sure. All he knows is that he can’t do it.

“I’m sorry. No, it has something to do with the Black Lion. Keith, if you could? It’s urgent.” Shiro looks at Keith, whose entire face is a blank mask, and he can only hope that the others don’t know what is running through Shiro’s head.

Shiro manages just a glance at Acxa, at her blank-eyed stare and the way her mouth makes a distinct frown. He should feel bad because he was the one who was pushing them to be together, but the thought of it actually going through leaves him exhausted and broken, as though he’s losing a piece of himself.

Shiro doesn’t want to lose anything else.

He doesn’t want to lose Keith.

“Okay, Sir,” Keith says as he stands, and though he hesitates for a moment, Shiro wraps his hand around Keith’s wrist and gently tugs the man to follow.

The outside of the room is almost like a breath of fresh air. Shiro can only manage one breath before turning to face Keith, to stare him in the eyes.

“What was that?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Keith counters. “What the hell, Shiro?”

_You were touching her. You were resting your hand on hers, and all I can imagine is that you should have been touching me._

“It’s…”

“Don’t say it’s nothing. Don’t you dare say it’s nothing.”

“What do you want me to say, Keith? Huh?” Shiro can feel all of the anger and pain bubbling to the surface, everything he’s fought to keep down and hidden boiling up to the top for anyone and everyone to see. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Say you’re jealous.”

Shiro stops dead in his tracks, and when he goes to turn, it’s Keith who grabs his arm and pins it to the glass window behind him. It doesn’t hurt, because there isn’t a single reality where Keith would actually hurt him, but it does hurt somewhere deep in Shiro’s gut.

Keith needs to hold him down, because Shiro is a disaster and he knows he’ll walk off if someone isn’t holding him down.

“Why would I say—”

“Admit it,” Keith replies, leaning closer. Not too long ago, Shiro had been so much taller than Keith. But the time with his mother had made Keith grow tall and strong, and it’s almost impossible for Shiro to even remember the boy he once was when looking at the man he is now. “Admit that you feel something for me, too. That’s why you freaked out just now. Admit it.”

“I—” But Shiro doesn’t know what to say, because he just doesn’t know what _to_ say. He’s the one that suggested to both Keith and Acxa that it would be good for them to become friends. It was Shiro who was supposed to give up, because it wasn’t fair to continue to pull Keith around.

“Damn it. I love you. I do—Keith—”

Here he is, standing in the Garrison hallway with his arm pinned to the window and Keith’s face inching up closer and closer and—

Shiro isn’t quite sure who kissed who, but it doesn’t matter because Keith’s lips are dry like the desert, yes, but they’re softer than he’s ever dared to imagine.

That’s a truth that hurts, but it’s hard to think of pain when Keith is moving his hand behind Shiro’s head to pull him closer, and really—why did this take so long? Why hadn’t they done this sooner?

“I love you, too.” Keith rests his forehead against Shiro’s. “Don’t try to push me away anymore. Okay?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.”

Shiro can hear a light tapping behind him, and only manages to turn just enough to see Veronica with her arms folded in front of her, the rest of the occupants of the room staring, their jaws hanging down closer to the table than Shiro ever thought possible.

He can see Veronica mouthing “Really?” through the window, and in the back, Shiro can see Acxa. She doesn’t look sad, nor angry—perplexed, maybe, but… He owes her an apology either way.

He owes Keith an apology, too, but when he opens his mouth, Keith just shakes his head before letting go of his wrist, instead letting his fingers move down to his hand. When their skin brushes, it feels electric.

“Damn it,” Keith mutters, but Shiro turns back his head to Keith. “We’re never gunna hear the end of this. But…”

“But what?”

“At least they’ll know you’re mine.”

Shiro ponders what he should say, but all he can do is kiss Keith again.

There’s apologies to tell and forgiveness to be asked for, but right now… All Shiro can do is follow Keith as he pulls him down the hallway, away from the window and the responsibilities on their plate.

Right now? Right now, all they need is a moment to breathe. A moment to understand. A moment to take everything in.

A moment to just… _be_.

 


End file.
